


back to the start (hands wrapped around my heart)

by capaldi



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Post ep 35
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:44:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2704289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capaldi/pseuds/capaldi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never really meshed from the start. Oil and water, the analogy goes, except Carmilla is that toxic, unrefined kind that kills baby dolphins and really tiny sea creatures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	back to the start (hands wrapped around my heart)

They never really meshed from the start. Oil and water, the analogy goes, except Carmilla is that toxic, unrefined kind that kills baby dolphins and really tiny sea creatures. They argue over the state of their room every time the filth gets to Laura, which is often and always.

“Would it kill you to clean up once in a while.”

“Not when I can have the satisfaction of seeing you do it, sweetie.”

Laura surmises Carmilla must be failing her classes, not just because she never goes to them, but because of that short term memory problem where she never remembers anything Laura tells her. It doesn’t take long before she just sort of gives up on the complaints because nothing ever changes. Except the contents of her fridge.

 _Roommate from hell_ , she quickly dubs Carmilla.

 --

As her investigation into Silas deepens, so does Carmilla’s general level of snark. When she’s not passive aggressively sabotaging Laura’s recordings in the background, she’s glaring profusely at Laura’s circle of friends. In particular, the presence of a certain tall ginger seems to incite the greatest amount of antagonism from her.

“If I didn't know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Please don’t insult me like one of your dimwit friends.”

And of course, finding out that Carmilla’s a vampire hardly helps her case.

\---

So in addition to avoiding her routine animosity, Laura now also has to dodge being eaten by an undead creature. If that doesn’t put a strain on a girl’s life, she doesn’t know what does.

They come up with a plan though, which in retrospect probably wasn’t all that thought out. Operation Catch Carmilla, featuring Laura Hollis, playing lead role of one (master) baiter. After donning that purity dress Danny picked out, she waits. Fiddles in her chair, talking occasionally to the camera -- a bundle of nerves, with just a hint of excitement. Coming from a life of an overbearingly protective father, Laura’s thrilled to finally play the hero of the story.

But nothing really prepares her for Carmilla’s grandiose entrance. Her breath hitches and as much as she tries to convince herself, it’s not because she’s afraid. Or rather, it’s a different type of terror, one that has her questioning her next set of steps.

Then Carmilla mentions her missing bat charm, in a semi-threatening tone that has Laura scrambling for her phone. And in a turn of events where Laura doesn’t even register the exact motions, Carmilla plucks the phone from her hands before she’s able to send out her cry for help.

“Maybe I don’t feel like sharing you right now.”

By all measures, Laura should be scared, and a part of her is. But the other part is also intrigued by the increasing seduction in Carmilla’s voice. Her hand brushes through the tail end of her hair and Laura suppresses a near shiver as it ghosts along the bare parts of her shoulder.

If she didn't feel so conditioned to be terrified in this moment, she’d almost classify what she was feeling as arousal.

But her crew comes rushing to her rescue in that moment of ambiguity, and the ensuing fight is equal parts hectic and injury-ridden. Laura has a sneaking suspicion that Carmilla had just resigned towards the end, when they finally manage to subdue her and put her in bonds.

She doesn't feel nearly as satisfied as she thought she would.

\---

Their victory is short-lived, when they discover Carmilla isn’t actually the cause of all things terrible (although she has admitted to purposely making Laura’s cleaning job harder just out of spite). It’s awkwardness all around, but it’s not like they can just untie a vampire. Danny is vehemently against it, and the rest of the group begrudgingly agrees, each with their personal safety in mind. And since they had one of the bad guys on their hands, they might as well make use of it right?

So they starve her for days, in hopes of extracting even the smallest bit of information. Sometimes the guilt seeps into Laura when she wakes in the middle of the night and hears Carmilla breathing heavily when she thinks Laura’s asleep. Those nights, she tightens her resolve before going back to sleep.

It’s for the best. _It’s the right thing to do._

All of that goes out the window when Carmilla has her first seizure. Laura’s hands can’t move fast enough from her sides to the cup of blood on the table. Even as Carmilla hesitates after the first sip, she urges her to drink. It’s only when the color returns to her face that Laura feels relieved.

And maybe it’s that one act of kindness that gets Carmilla to spill her secrets. Talking about the centuries spent living a cursed life with her mother pulling the strings, and decades spent living in a coffin for loving a girl. Her voice struggles and edges on nearly cracking several times, before she reigns it in with a stony veneer. Laura understands because she too, knows the pain of losing someone you love.

In that moment, Laura feels something weird. Something new, and much more terrifying than abject fear.

\---

The bonds are broken not long after, when Carmilla’s apparent pal, Will, bursts in and ruins the little hostage situation. Laura puts up a good fight, much to Carmilla’s delight, but is forced into a headlock position after a short scuffle.  

“It’d be worth it just to screw with you,” he taunts Carmilla.

Her eyes never catch the punch in action, but in one swift stroke, Will's down and Laura scrambles for her bed, barely catching her breath. Carmilla stands before her like a guardian, eyes and body tense for the fight.

“You’re gonna regret that, kitty.”

When Will dashes out and Carmilla turns to look at her, her eyes are dark and unreadable. Bits and pieces of emotions flicker -- relief, anger, excitement, and what Laura swears is a hint of regret before Carmilla suddenly lunges at her throat.

\---

Apparently the biting was just a power-up snack for Carmilla to try and catch Will before he snitched to their mother. It still hurt like hell, but Laura forgives, and convinces Carmilla to stay and fight. It’s safer that way, she says.

They continue on their mission to save Silas from forces of evil, and Carmilla is increasingly proving to be a valuable asset. Researching your adversary turns out to be quite the dangerous gig, and it helps to have a centuries old, powerful, undead creature at your side when running from the mystical forces on your tail. It also helps with the late walks back from the library, because just the depth of her glare is enough to repel any approaching strangers.

“If you want me to stop having heroic notions about you, you should probably stop saving my life.”

And of course Carmilla retorts with some snarky little comeback, but the corners of her mouth lift slightly and Laura smiles.

\---

When Laura makes the realization, it’s at the worst moment possible.

She finds the recording on her computer, the one of her in her possessed state, offering up Kirsch as a substitute for her own life. The one where Carmilla abandons everything they’ve accomplished thus far and just gives up. The one where she was never even going to tell Laura what had happened because she was just _trying to protect her._

Laura realizes when she gets angry and hurt at the betrayal. But it’s also pain, reaching and crawling towards the center of her body, a descending, visceral type of pain.

She tells Carmilla to leave, to go, and the pain amplifies a thousand times over.

Laura realizes it then when she absolutely and completely hates Carmilla. Because hate is too powerful an emotion to waste on someone you don’t like.

\---

She does something incredibly stupid.

It starts with that stupid message she leaves for her dad and Carmilla, where she says the words that led to all of this.

Laura had expected to charge into a losing battle against the Dean, just as a one last act of defiance and manufactured bravery. What she had not expected was one very angry Carmilla rushing into the fray halfway through, sword in hand.

“Are you out of your mind,” she yells at Laura, as she fights off a wave of her mother’s minions.

Laura breaks into a smile in the middle of the battlefield, which quickly vanishes when Carmilla pulls her away from an incoming crow.

“God you’re such an idiot,” she mutters, arm still wrapped around Laura’s waist.

She couldn't agree more, because at that moment all that’s rushing through her head is Carmilla Carmilla Carmilla. She was here, which meant they had a chance. They could win.

And they did.

Just not the way Laura wanted to.

\---

The proceeding weeks, she’s surrounded by pity-glazed eyes, tiptoeing over the elephant in the room.  _But look at all the people you saved_ , they remind her on the daily. Laura wishes they would just say it, because it’s not like she can stop thinking it.

Carmilla's dead.

And she’s not coming back. Laura knows because she spends a week waiting everyday at the chasm where Carmilla leapt, wishing with all her might that she would see that shit-eating, obnoxiously smug grin resurface.

Sometimes she has dreams where their hands almost touch, and she almost gets to say the words she never said when Carmilla was alive. She wakes up, covered in sweat and resentment and anger.

Because Carmilla wasn’t supposed to die. She wasn’t even supposed to do the saving -- Laura was.

And Laura absolutely hates Carmilla for leaving her, for being stupidly heroic, for sacrificing herself to save a bunch of people she arguably never even liked. She hates her.

And because those three words were so much easier to say than three words she really wanted to say.

\---

Turns out, Betty’s a better roommate than Laura ever knew. She actually bothers to follow Laura’s chore wheel, and even does the dishes on her off days. 

And sometimes when Laura cleans, she reaches for the black strands that are no longer there. That’s when Betty finds her slumped over, crying softly to herself on the bathroom floor.

But all of that passes. The intermittent bursts of sobbing gradually diminish, and memories of _her_ only trigger mild, barely noticeable chest pains. Laura stops making extra cupcakes in her routine batches (Betty eats as healthily as Laura should be eating), and actually sleeps through the night without expecting the door to slam after midnight. Surprisingly she doesn’t fail all her classes, Squeezes by with B’s and a rare C. Danny caves (out of pity, Laura suspects) and extends a few deadlines in her favor.

In many ways Laura’s back where she started. She’s focusing on her academics, partying in her free time, and binge watching the newest season of Doctor Who.

In some ways she’s not. Because she still feels Carmilla between her sheets, breathes her in the air, and sees her in her dreams.

“I love you,” she blurts one day out of the blue, alone in her room, to no one.

She repeats the words like a mantra, with increasing volume and intensity, ignoring the tears streaking down her face.

_Finally._

 

 

 


End file.
